


I Got This

by TaleasOldasTimeandSpace



Series: Yet Another Gratuitously Fluffy Darcyland Soulmate AU [17]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Balrog the Bilgesnipe, Darcyland, F/M, SHIP DARCY WITH ALL THE THINGS, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, and thus i lay the foundation for my balrog/cloak of levitation crackship, doctor strange's sentient cape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 05:17:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9973775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleasOldasTimeandSpace/pseuds/TaleasOldasTimeandSpace
Summary: Having phenomenal cosmic powers is swell.  Being drugged, kidnapped, and unable to access those powers?  Not so much.Having a soulmate with a few Useful Skills of her own?  Absolutely groovy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For [snowspell](http://archiveofourown.org/users/snowspell/pseuds/snowspell), who said, 'I love role reversal. Since Stephen is intensely powerful, I would love to see a situation where Darcy saves him using the knowledge (political science, astrophysics, social media, music) that she has from her own studies or from spending so much time with Jane. :-)'

 

Stephen’s eyes popped open.  In the brief instant before the dull pounding in his head made him squeeze them shut again, he caught a glimpse of a grey, cracked ceiling and harsh florescent lights.

That was a problem, because it most certainly wasn’t the dark-paneled ceiling and muted lighting of his room in the Sanctum, the only room in which he _should_ be waking up.  A greater problem was the fact that he couldn’t remember anything after leaving his meeting with Wong that morning—was it even the same day?  He had no way of knowing how long he’d been unconscious, and the ache in his head made it hard to think.

So did the yelling in what he assumed was the hallway outside his room.  Yelling that was getting louder.

‘Seriously, guys!  You know who I am!  You _know_ this never ends well for you!  You might as well evacuate and blow the base now—it’ll save you on dental work in the future!’

He managed to pry open an eye just in time to see the door open and several men in dark uniforms push a young woman into the room, slamming the door behind her.  Huffing a frustrated breath, she glanced around the small room until she caught sight of him.  Her eyes widened, and she stared at him for a moment.  Grinning slightly, she waved her fingers at him before whirling to kick the door.  ‘You don’t even have the decency to give me my own cell?  This is an outrage!  I’m totally putting this in my Yelp review.  I demand to speak to the head goon!’  Mercifully, she stopped yelling to press her ear to the door.  Whatever she was listening for she must have heard, because she nodded once and turned back to Stephen.  _‘Sorry about that.  I’ve found that the more obnoxious I am, the longer they leave me alone.  Usually backup arrives before things get really gnarly, although that might be a problem this time around.  What are you in for?’_   Raising an eyebrow, she added, _‘I didn’t know Hydra had branched out into fashion police.’_

He blinked.  Rubbed his eyes.  Shook his head (which did nothing for his headache).  She was still there.  _‘Could we possibly have this discussion at a lower volume?’_ he asked plaintively.  This was not the first impression he’d vaguely pictured, but at the moment he was too miserable to care.

‘Huh.  That explains a lot.’  She moved his feet and took a seat at the end of the cot.  ‘Hydra generally doesn’t go for wild parties, so I’m guessing they drugged you.’  Squinting contemplatively, she continued, ‘Judging by the outfit and the fact that you’re here at all—they don’t usually care about random civilians—you must be some kind of superhero, yes?’ 

‘Something like that.’  Being called a superhero was annoying, but the effort required in correcting her and explaining the intricacies of sorcerers was not something he wanted to get into until the overhead lights stopped stabbing him in the eyeballs.

‘Groovy.  I figure they gave you Morpheum or something like that.  It’s the only thing strong enough to put Thor under.  Besides Asgardian ale, anyway.  It’s probably going scramble your brain a bit until it’s out of your system.  Might even mess with your powers.’

‘That’s unfortunate.’

She stuffed her hands in her pockets and leaned back against the wall.  ‘You have no idea.’

He frowned, something she had said earlier coming back to mind.  ‘You mentioned backup?’

‘Ah, yeah.  About that…’  She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.  ‘Normally in these situations I’d hit my panic button and sit back and wait for the Avengers to start kicking in doors and heads.  Unfortunately, this time around my panic button got broken before I could activate it.  They’ll probably show up eventually, but it’ll take a lot longer.’

‘How often does this happen to you?’

‘More than _I_ would like, believe me.  They don’t even have a frequent kidnappee card or anything.’

‘Why did…Hydra, you said?’  She nodded.  ‘Why did they kidnap you in the first place?  And why would the Avengers come for you?  You’re not some kind of superhero, are you?’

‘Well, many have call my ability to manage both finicky scientists and bratty superheroes a superpower, but no.  I just work with them.  Name’s Darcy, by the way.  Darcy Lewis.  Might as well break out the formal introductions if we’re going to be cellmates.’  She grinned and held out a hand.  ‘Not to mention soulmates.’

He rolled his eyes at the near-pun—which he regretted instantly—and shook her hand.  ‘Doctor Stephen Strange.’

‘Seriously?’

‘What?’ he asked defensively.

‘Doctor Strange?  That’s you’re real name?’  she fidgeted with something in her pocket while staring at him incredulously.

‘Obviously.’

‘It’s like you came with a built-in secret identity.  Did you always want to be a superhero?’

‘I’m a sorcerer, actually.’  Apparently he wasn’t going to put up with the misnomer after all.  ‘And no, I didn’t.  You could say I got into it by accident.’  And now he was the one making bad jokes.  But come to think of it, his head wasn’t as fuzzy as it was before.  Maybe they didn’t have to wait for backup to arrive after all.  Sitting up, he swung his legs off the cot, swaying slightly as the room spun.

Darcy caught his arm, steadying him.  ‘Whoa there, Gandalf.  Where do you think you’re going?’

‘I can get us out of here.’ 

‘Really?  That would be awesome.’

He shot her a smirk before holding up one hand, palm out, and making a circular motion with the other.

Nothing happened.

He kept circling.

Still nothing.

‘Is something supposed to happen when you do that?’

He frowned, leaning forward unsteadily to squint at his hand.  Flopping back on the cot, he let out a grunt.  ‘I lost my sling ring.’

‘Is that bad?’

‘It means I won’t be getting us out of here after all.’

‘Oh.  Well, it was worth a shot.’  She stuck her hands back into her pockets, staring at the door.  Suddenly, her face brightened and her mouth split in a manic grin.  ‘Actually, you know what?  I’ve got it covered.’  She pulled a paper clip and a Swiss Army knife from her pocket.  ‘Thank you, MacGyver.  And by MacGyver I mean Richard Dean Anderson, the One True MacGyver.  Not the imposter child on TV right now.’

Kneeling by the door, she quickly unfolded the paperclip and pocketknife and started fiddling with the lock.

‘You know how to pick locks?’

She shrugged and tossed him a grin.  ‘What can I say?  It’s a product of watching MacGyver and the like during my formative years.  I’ve always felt it was a useful skill.  That and hotwiring cars.  You’d be amazed how often I’ve done both.’

‘Somehow, I can picture it quite easily.’  He sat up again, slowly this time, so that he could better watch her pick the lock.

‘So I’ve never been into guys who wear jewelry, but that’s some sweet bling you’re rocking there,’ she said over her shoulder.  ‘Where’d you get it, Ancient Magical Artifacts R Us?  Or did you just loot the warehouse from the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark?’

‘Something like that.  It’s the Eye of Agamotto.’  He hadn’t even registered that he was still wearing it until now, and he sagged in relief that the Hydra goons had overlooked it.

She paused in her efforts, cocking an eyebrow at him.  ‘The which of what now?’

‘Eye of Agamotto.’

‘How can you say that with a straight face?’

He laughed.  ‘Practice.  Lots of practice.’

 ‘Right, so you’re Doctor Strange, and you wear the Eye of Agamemnon—’

‘Agamotto.’

‘—that’s what I said.  What is it, anyway?’

‘It’s an Infinity Stone, if you want to get technical.’

‘Infinity Stone, huh?  My friend got possessed by one of those once.  Are you sure that’s something you want to be accessorizing with?  A nice piece of plutonium might be safer.’

He blinked.  ‘How on earth did your friend get possessed by an Infinity Stone?’

‘Well, she wasn’t actually on earth at the time.  It’s a long story—convergence of the Nine Realms, Dark Elf invasion, saving the world, y’know.  The usual.’

‘I’m starting to think your life might actually be weirder than mine.’

‘You get used to it.  HA!’  with a final twist of her makeshift picks, the lock clicked open.  She rolled to her feet in one easy motion and opened the door, sticking her head cautiously into the hallway.  ‘Looks like the coast is clear.’  Pulling back into the room, she shot him an appraising look.  ‘Can you actually walk?’

Glaring at her, he said, ‘Of course I can walk!’ and surged to his feet.  He shot her a triumphant smirk, which quickly morph to panic as he wobbled and started an inexorable descent toward the floor.  The hard, unforgiving floor.  He was probably going to get a concussion on top of his drug-induced hangover.

It was times like these that truly tempted him to abuse the temporal powers of the Eye.

Fortunately for the fabric of time and space, Darcy caught him before he could add the floor to his list of personal acquaintances.  ‘Easy there, Doctor Disco.  How about you lean on me ’til you get your land legs back?’

‘…Fine.’

They staggered through the door and paused as Darcy looked up and down the hall.  She turned them to the right, but stopped, frowning, turned them around and took them down the left instead.

‘Is this the way out?’ Stephen asked.

‘Nope.  It’s back that way,’ she replied, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.

‘Then why are we going this way?’

‘I...’  She trailed off, grimacing.  ‘I’m not sure, exactly.  But there’s something this way that I—we—need to find.’

‘Like what, exactly?  And how do you know?’

She shrugged, bouncing his arm where it was slung across her shoulders.  ‘Haven’t the foggiest.  Guess we’ll find out when we get there.’

‘Not to doubt your intuition or anything, but are we sure that’s wise?’ he asked mildly.

‘Hey, I’ve got great instincts!  It’s why I went to New Mexico to work for Jane, which is how I met Thor and found out aliens are real, and then I met the Avengers, which is why…I’m…kidnapped by Hydra…on a bi-monthly basis…’  Her voice trailed off.  ‘Huh.  Maybe my instincts aren’t all that great after all.’

He patted her arm comfortingly.  ‘On the bright side, we probably wouldn’t have met or be stumbling down this hallway together if it weren’t for your instincts.  I know I’d probably still be stuck in that cell if it weren’t for you.’

She shot him a lopsided grin.  ‘Aw, you say the sweetest things.’

They continued to weave drunkenly down the hall.  Stephen did his best to carry his own weight, but the drugs still in his system meant that he had to lean on Darcy more than he would like.  She was surprisingly strong, but there was no telling how long it would take to get out of the base, even if they managed to avoid running into any Hydra soldiers.

‘This would be a lot easier if I had my cloak,’ he muttered.

She paused in her efforts to cart them into the unknow to glance at him sideways.  ‘Why?’

‘My cloak gives me the ability to fly, so you wouldn’t have to be doing all the work.’  He caught her incredulous stare and grimaced, knowing exactly how it sounded.

‘You have a cloak that gives you the ability to fly?’ she repeated slowly.

‘It’s not called the Cloak of Levitation for nothing.’

She shook her head, resuming their trek down the hallway.  ‘Why does all of your stuff have such weird, clunky names?’

‘I’ve never been able to get a satisfactory answer for that.  Still,’ he added, ‘I find it remarkable that they took the Cloak and not the Eye.’

She waved a dismissive hand.  ‘Eh, no one accused Hydra of being bright.  If it makes you feel better, they missed my pocketknife but took Palpatine.’

This time it was Stephen that halted them.  ‘The Emperor?’ he asked incredulously.  His head was still fuzzy, but he wasn’t _that_ out of it.

‘My taser.’

‘You named your taser after the evil emperor in Star Wars?’

‘I name everything.’

He blinked slowly at her.  ‘Does your entire life revolve around pop culture references?’

She pretended to think about it.  ‘Well, I _could_ fake a convincing astrophysics lecture thanks to Jane, and I’m the official PR representative for the Avengers, but otherwise, yeah.  Pretty much.’

Just then the lights went out.

Darcy sighed noisily.  ‘This day just keeps getting better.’

Stephen brightened.  ‘Hang on a minute—I might actually be able to do something about this.’  It took three tries, but finally a small, glowing circle sputtered to life in his free hand.  He wouldn’t be able to do anything with it defensively if they ran into trouble, but at least now they were only traveling metaphorically blind, instead of physically.  He glanced at Darcy, to see her staring appreciatively at his efforts.

‘Nice.’

He laughed.  ‘See?  I’m not just a pretty face.’

‘Oh, I never thought you were a pretty face.’

He grinned smugly, then frowned.  ‘But you _do_ think my face is pretty, right?’

She smirked, pulling him down to kiss his cheek.  ‘Ask me when we get out of here.’

‘Not to be pushy or anything, but when is that going to be, anyway?’

Shrugging, she said, ‘Don’t know, exactly.  I think we’re almost to the whatever-it-is that’s down this way, so that’s a plus.  Now get a move-on!’  She tugged them forward.  ‘We’re burning daylight!’

‘I don’t think you can say that.  we don’t even know what time it is outside.’

‘Killing the mood, pal.  Killing the mood.’

As they continued down the hall, Stephen frowned thoughtfully.  ‘It’s odd that we haven’t seen anyone since we left the cell.’  Almost before he finished speaking, they heard screams and shots coming from up ahead.

Darcy shot him a look.  ‘You had to say it, didn’t you?’ she asked dryly.

They couldn’t really go any faster, but that became moot when a pair of eyes appeared at the end of the corridor.  They hovered about six feet off the ground, and seemed to both reflect the light from Stephen’s circle and glow with their own inner light.  Darcy halted them and cocked her head, a puzzled frown on her face. Stephen held up his circle, trying to figure out what they were facing.  The eyes floated closer, until the light of his magic illuminated the form.

It was a figure out of nightmare, antlered and scaled.  The light from his circle glinted off an overabundance of sharp teeth and long, wicked claws.

And it was wearing his cloak.

 _‘Balrog?’_ Darcy exclaimed incredulously.

Stephen stared at her.  ‘You _know_ this…thing?’

‘Of course I know him, he’s my bilgesnipe,’ she answered distractedly.  ‘Balrog, what are you doing here?  And what are you wearing?  This is no time to be cosplaying Thor!’

Balrog didn’t look at all cowed by Darcy’s scolding.  He drifted closer, and Stephen could see that he was actually floating about two feet off the ground, no doubt thanks to the fact that he was wearing the Cloak of Levitation.

Stephen fought the urged to growl.  Winning the favour of the notoriously finnicky cloak was _supposed_ to be his thing.  It _wasn’t_ supposed to be something just anyone could do, certainly not some random creature that looked like a low-budget monster from an early Star Trek episode.

Balrog butted Darcy’s arm.  She rolled her eyes and scratched him between the antlers.  ‘Yes, I’m happy to see you too.’  He closed his eyes blissfully, before opening them again and lifting a claw.  Stephen could see something clutched in it.  Darcy let out an excited squeal—right in his ear—and propped him against the wall, where he slid bonelessly to the floor.  ‘You found Palpatine?  Balrog, I adore you!’  She grabbed the bilgesnipe’s head with both hands and planted a kiss on his snout.  As she straightened up to holster the taser, Balrog met Stephen’s eyes and smiled slowly, showing off his teeth.

Stephen narrowed his eyes.  ‘This is a touching reunion and all, but might I remind you we’re still in the middle of a Hydra base, with no idea how to get out, following a “feeling” into the unknown?’

‘Actually,’ she began thoughtfully, ‘I’m not feeling it anymore.  Mostly I feel remarkably pleased with myself, mainly because I’m irritating you.  Which isn’t entirely inconceivable, but kinda weird since I didn’t feel like that a minute ago…’  She whipped around to stare at Balrog.  ‘Wait a minute—it’s you, isn’t it?  You’re the one who led me here.  We’ve got some kind of psychic link now?  That is so cool!’

‘Wonderful.  Could you maybe explore your new bond later?  Like, I don’t know, _after_ we escape the top-secret villain base?’

Darcy nodded.  ‘You have a point.’

‘I _also_ have a Cloak of Levitation, which is currently being worn by a cross between Smaug and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.  Who, I might add, looks perfectly capable of walking on his own.’

The cloak twitched guiltily off of Balrog, who landed lightly on his feet.  It started for Stephen, but paused in front of Darcy, almost as if it was considering her.  She held out a hand.  ‘Um, hi.  I’m Darcy.  I’m Balrog’s person.  I’m also your, uh, person’s soulmate, so we’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other.  It’s nice to meet you.’

The cloak cocked to the side, before stretching out a corner and wrapping it around Darcy’s hand.  She grinned.  ‘I think it likes me!’

Stephen rolled his eyes.  ‘Of course it does.’

‘If it’s all the same to you though,’ she said, turning back to the cloak, ‘I can’t keep calling you the Cloak of Levitation all the time.  It’s a bit of a mouthful, don’t you think?’  The cloak bobbed in agreement and turned to Stephen.  It shouldn’t have been possible, but he could feel its accusing stare— _and why have_ you _never thought to give me a better name?_  

Maybe Darcy and Balrog weren’t the only ones with a link.

Darcy didn’t seem to notice.  ‘How do you feel about the name Peter?’ she asked.  the cloak jerked violently away from her.  ‘Hey, easy!  It was just a suggestion.  Not Peter then.  What about Wendy?’  the cloak hovered, considering.  Finally, it bobbed once and flew to Darcy, patting her cheek with one corner.  She laughed.  ‘Oh, you like that one, huh?’

‘Darcy…’ he most emphatically did _not_ whine.  He was tempted to knock his head against the wall, but he suspected that would set a bad precedent for their relationship.  Instead, he settled for pinching the bridge of his nose.  ‘You can’t just go around renaming my wardrobe.’

‘Listen, Doctor Who—’

‘Strange.  It’s _Doctor_ _Strange_.  And I’m an actual doctor.  why is that so hard for people to understand?!’  It seemed like ever since he became a sorcerer, he received exactly zero respect from anyone.  He suspected it had to do with the outfit.

‘You don’t look like any doctor _I’ve_ ever had,’ Darcy sniffed, confirming his suspicions.

Stephen waved at himself.  ‘Do I _look_ like a timelord?’

She studied him.  ‘Now that you mention it, you look more like the Master.  Classic Master.  I’m thinking Delgado.’  She shrugged and spread her hands.  ‘It’s the goatee.’

Balrog snickered at Stephen’s outraged squawk.

‘You’re all hilarious,’ he grumbled as he started leveraging himself back up the wall.  When he was mostly upright again, the cloak flew to him, wrapping around his face briefly before settling comfortably around his shoulders.  He exhaled with a whoosh as his toes left the ground and rose to hover three inches above the floor.  His head still hurt, but it was the most like himself he’d felt since waking up in the cell.

Darcy was kneeling by Balrog, arms wrapped around his neck and grinning brightly up at Stephen.  ‘Aw, she missed you!’

He went to cross his arms, remembered he was still holding the glowing circle, and ended up tucking one arm awkwardly behind his back.  ‘The Cloak is an it, not a she.’  The collar of the cloak slapped him lightly before returning to lay neatly across his shoulders.

Darcy raised an eyebrow and smirked.  ‘I think she might disagree with you there, mate.  ’Sides, if R2D2 can be a him, Wendy can be a her.’

Stephen frowned.  There was a flaw in her logic somewhere, but he was in no shape at the present to find it.  Instead, he shrugged.  ‘Have it your way.’

Darcy nodded regally.  ‘Naturally.’

Stephen held out a hand, pulling her to her feet.  ‘Now that you have your taser and bilgesnipe, and I have my cloak—’

 _‘Wendy,’_ Darcy coughed.

‘—can we _please_ leave?’

‘Serpently!  Unless…’  She cocked her head.  ‘Have you ever blown up an enemy base before?’

‘No, I can’t say that I have.’

‘Want to?’

He studied her.  She was bouncing on her heels, an infectious grin on her face at the prospect of mayhem.  He felt that to refuse would be the equivalent of kicking a puppy.  Moreover, there was something about Darcy that made the idea of wreaking havoc sound incredibly fun.  ‘Yes, please.  How did you come to own a bilgesnipe, anyway?’ he asked as they once again started down the hall.  At least this time he was moving under Wendy— _the Cloak of Levitation’s_ —power, rather than making Darcy carry both their weight.

She waved a vague hand.  ‘It’s a long and strangely Batman-esque story.  I’ll tell you once we finish raining fire and destruction on this base.  Now come on!’ she added, tugging him by the arm.  ‘I think I remember passing a munitions closet!’

* * *

 

They escaped the exploding base in an ancient jeep that Darcy hotwired. (‘See!’ she crowed.  ‘I told you it was a Useful Skill!’  ‘Yes, you’re a genius.  Please watch where you’re driving.’)  Balrog sat in the back, ears and tongue flapping, antlers taking up almost all of the rear-view mirror.

‘You drive stick, too,’ he said, watching her work the gearshift.  Then he shook his head.  ‘What am I saying.  Of course you drive stick.’

‘You betcha!  Basil Lewis raised his children to drive anything—though he’s bad about leaving the parking brake on, and my brothers pick up that habit.  Mom was the one who taught us to ride anything.  She started us on her Bonneville Scrambler almost before we could walk.’

Stephen hadn’t actually considered the fact that she must have a family.  She seemed the type to have sprung fully-formed from some ancient deity’s head.  ‘How many of you are there?’

‘I’m the oldest—probably why I’m good at bossing people around.  Then there’s my brothers, Bennet and Elliot, and my sister, Tilney.  She’s the baby.’  She caught his raised eyebrow as he mulled over their names.  Laughing, she said, ‘My mom had a thing for Jane Austen, and my dad has a thing for my mom.  Which is just as well, when you think about it.’

Later, as they reached the outskirts of Manhattan, she nodded towards the Eye.  ‘So what does the Eye of Agatha Christie—’

He shook his head in mock disappointment.  ‘Now you’re reaching.’

‘Eye of Aggie?’ she offered.

He sighed.  Heavily.  ‘It’s the best I’m going to get, isn’t it?’

She lifted a shoulder.  ‘Pretty much, yeah.’

‘Fine.’

‘Awesome.  So what does the Eye of Aggie do, anyway?’

‘It controls time.’  As soon as he said it, he knew it was a mistake.

Her face morphed into the manic grin that was both endearing and terrifying.  ‘So it’s like a mini-TARDIS? Ha!’  She laughed and punched his arm.  ‘You totally _are_ Doctor Who!’

He covered his face with his hands, mostly to hid his grin.  ‘You’re never going to let this go, are you?’

‘Nope.’

He reached out, covering her hand where it rested on the gearshift with his own.  ‘I can live with that.’

 

**Author's Note:**

> Stephen and Balrog cordially dislike each other, but manage to be civil in front of Darcy. Mostly. Stephen insists that Balrog is a bad influence on the Cloak of Levitation, to which Darcy replies that Wendy is her own cape and is fully capable making her own decisions and friends. Sometimes she even says it with a straight face.
> 
> Wendy and Balrog often sneak out to go flying, and he introduced her to the joys of terrorizing the Avengers. Their favourite mode of attack is to lurk in the corner of the ceiling and drop Balrog on unsuspecting superheroes. Darcy claims it’s a good way to keep the Avengers on their toes.
> 
> Doctor Who is Darcy’s go-to nickname for Stephen. Sometimes she personalizes it with specific doctors depending on his mood—Twelve when he’s particularly grouchy (or talking about music), Ten when he’s especially suave. Her goal is to match a doctor to every occasion.
> 
> Do you know how long I have been sitting on this fic? TWO MONTHS, THAT'S HOW LONG. TWO. LONG. MONTHS.  
> *ahem* I used it as incentive to complete the prompt that have been piling up, because I absolutely refused to let myself line-jump so shamelessly. But it was hard, man.
> 
> I absolutely adored Doctor Strange, and Darcy/Strange (somebody suggested MysticShock, and I like) is officially my favourite Darcy ship. (Sorry, Steve. And Bucky. And Clint.) Also, it's been SO HARD not to refer to Wendy by name.
> 
> Got a prompt? Leave it in the comments below, or [shoot the breeze](https://taleasoldastime-andspace.tumblr.com/ask) on tumblr. No smut, slash, or polyships, please and thank you!
> 
> Namarie, my little bilgesnipes.


End file.
